Subway Saga
by Forsakenfaith
Summary: Sometimes a day just doesn't go well, but it can still end in love. Response to public transportation challenge. These are all just drabbles connecting into a larger onshot. .
1. Satan's Chorus

The endless flow of profanities never ended their tirade in her head, her eyes screaming them to the outside world. This had to be the worst day in the history of worst days ever! No, this day couldn't even be put into a category. Yes, that's right, today was all on its own, and buried under ten feet of ground in a pile of shit with maggots feasting upon it.

She just knew it was going to be a fantabulous day when she woke up to the sound of birds. No, not birds, Satan's chorus is what she awoke to. Five massive crows were perched on her New York apartment windowsill, their beady eyes taunting her to make a move. Knowing she should just roll over and flee into her dreams, her idiotic reasoning got the better of her. So, what did she do? She got up and headed for a relaxing shower.

A sardonic laugh mocked her; relaxing was not what you would call jumping in and out of a shower for five minutes trying not to get hypothermia. Of course the damn doughnut loving, French fry collecting, hot water freak upstairs left her only cold water! What happened next in her grand morning adventures? Her sadistic monthly visitor decided to drop in and feed her a little bitch slap with a side of ass kicking.

Oh, but it only got better! Stepping out of her five story walk up, living on the fifth level wasn't fun; she noticed a wonderful Tuesday morning gift. Someone had so gracelessly removed her six year old tires from her car! People that helpful deserved to be shot. How do people not notice tires being removed in the middle of the night, and by Kami what the hell did they want with them? Is that where those boot camps got all their tires? Stealing them from helpless women in the middle of the night, they would feel her wrath when one of the trainers tripped over one and broke his neck!

Growling at the idea of a cab, she headed for the subway. The last time she ventured into the dark enclosure of a cab, she met a pleasant man named Bernnie, not so pleasant was his split personality Herold. Apparently they didn't get along and Herold was always after Bernnie's money. She had learned her lesson. Don't take cabs home drunk on a Friday night without a cell phone.

Putting on her angry homicidal face to get through the hordes of people wasn't a difficult task this morning, so she went head long into the rampaging herds or New Yorkers. Don't get her wrong, not all of them were bad people, they just didn't know the meaning of excuse me when they had a place to be. Today neither did she. Line backers would be proud with the way she knocked them aside, her evil side applauding in glee at each grunt or swear word responding her attack.

Alright, she was well aware her rage was misplaced, but it was better than breaking down, engorging on cookies and cream ice cream while curled up in bed. All of this was why she was here, stuffed into a compact sized subway on her way to work, with overzealous hands and the disregarded criminally insane. She could feel her anger peek to new levels, the intensity drowning her ability to see straight. Whoever invented public transportation better be thanking Kami she didn't get to them first.


	2. Daisies

Not even the Kami's were tested as much as himself this morning. Everything was perfect this morning, everything was just peachy, and then during the one second he chose to blink, fate decided he was to be the next torture victim.

On his way to work, some kamikaze flower delivery man zeroed in on him and decided he was the next in line to execute. Swerving into his lane, the brain cell lacking man collided into him, making his car a death trap as it spun along the road into a fire hydrant. Not only was his car totaled, it started raining. No, that wasn't rain; it was the life saving substance that tortured flames into submission. The force of the impact knocked the bolt lose from the hydrant and water was flung into the air, gravity batting its home run as the water decommissioned his windshield.

To make matters worse, flowers littered his car, making their way into his hair as he stepped out. Wet, decorated in flowers, he was waiting for the slap stick music to begin. Or perhaps people would come and dance in the pelting water and make it look refreshing. At least it would give this all some purpose.

Grunting with malice, his fingernails turned a vile green as he melted a flower from his silken locks. Figured they would be daisies. Why wouldn't they be? It was a beautiful damn day in the neighborhood right? The sun was shining, the kids were laughing, and the parents were smiling. He finally understood mass murder on a whole new level.

It mattered little that the flower loving feminine man was turning and that he had run a red light. It was still his lane! Regardless, police files were made, insurance was exchanged, and tow trucks were called. He was already half across town from his condo, and he was due at work in fifteen minutes. Not even a cabbie lacking self preservation skills would be able to make the voyage through New York traffic in that time.

Resigning on the idea of taking the subway, he journeyed towards his destination, only to realize he left his traitorous wallet in his car. Marvelous! Now he was stranded on a corner of New York, which might as well of been the scene for "Cast Away." As soon as you need help, isn't it hilarious how suddenly you catch leprosy?

Turning into a stealthy drowned rat, he stole enough money for the subway off of a blind beggar around the corner. A millionaire reduced to theft from a helpless man, Freddy Krueger had to be lurking in the shadow somewhere, because his nightmares were suddenly very real, and something deranged was out to get him.

All of that lead up to this moment, this moment when he knew he reached the ninth level of hell. Caged inside some metal electricity ran box with species of every kind. No, he didn't mean humans and demons, he just meant people. The malformed bunch extended from apple pie baking grandmas to gangsters desperate for recognition. All of them splendidly congregated into one confined area. This mattered little to him, they were all expendable. Whoever invented public transportation better be thanking Kami he didn't get to them first.


	3. The Meeting

Five minutes were left, five minutes until he would lose his next buyer. He made arrangements to be there at ten in the morning, and he was going to be late if this hell hole on wheels didn't speed up. The stench of multiple people suffering from an apparent lack of water was giving him a migraine and the gremlin faced creature inhabiting the area next to him was leaning precariously close.

Straining to find some suitable air, he felt the bindings on his rage begin to pull. Thanking whatever Kami that had the fleck of offhanded mercy as the ride came to a screeching halt, he resisted the urge to dive for the known.

Stepping regally from his nightmares, even the police officer to his right flinched away from him. Storming his way from the subway terminal a destruction of fear was left in his wake. Blinking once again, as the body demanded you do so, someone slammed into him. Growling, the scent of a woman embraced his senses. "Wench." He growled out, the threat clear. She merely tossed back a 'jerk' and continued on her way. No, today was not his day.

She was going to be late, and just knew all her plans would be ruined. Thanking whatever Kami that had the fleck of offhanded mercy, she dived for the door, not caring about dignity any longer. If that man had touched her butt one more time, she would give that terrified looking cop something to truly be scared of.

Marching her way out of the subway platform, her mind too engaged with plans of revenge, she collided into a solid brick. Not even a sorry was said, no, instead it was 'wench'. Not having the patience or the sensibility not to attack the man, she barked a 'jerk' and continued on her war path, new ideas springing about how to torture his silver hair.

Finally making it to her destination, she was on her wits end. Tears bombarded her eyes, but she refused to give fate what it desired. Feet clumping against marble floors, she growled her name at the innocent receptionist. The poor girl pointed a shaking finger towards the elevator, and Kagome was off. Her mission would be completed and she would go home. That ice cream sounded perfect right about now.

Stepping into the elevator, she noticed the button for the top floor was already lit up. Not caring if others were in the carriage, her glare penetrated the lit up button. Shifting with the movement of the metal box, her mind wandered into dark musings about how many metal boxes people used to get from one place to another daily.

Everything happened rapidly after that. Another metal box turned deadly, a scream of outrage, a growl of promised pain, and a slip to the floor. Kagome kept her eyes closed, the emergency lights flashing on around her, but she refused to take notice. No, this wasn't happening. This was NOT happening!

Sesshoumaru's thoughts ran the same. His balance and reflexes didn't save him in time, her feet slamming into his; he ended up on the floor in much the same position as the wench. Growling, he rose to his feet, his eyes staying closed in a pitiful attempt to make it all go away.

Slamming her head against the floor beneath her, an obscenity was yelled. "I cannot believe this! Kami, if I'm being punished, just use the lightning!"

Sighing, she opened her eyes to meet gold ones, angry gold ones. No, angry wasn't quite the word, but she couldn't care less at the moment. Lifting herself to her feet, she glowered at the man before her. "I blame you."

His anger only escalated at the remark. How dare she blame him for something he was suffering as well? "You blame me for both our unfortunate happening?"

Growling, her hands were tossed into the air. "Yes! I have a meeting to get to and it's very important!"

He didn't quite know what to make of that, so he took a step forward, his snarl a warning. "This Sesshoumaru is guilty of nothing. I, myself, have a meeting to attend."

Growling right back at him, Kagome stepped forward. "I have had the worst day in my life, I am trying to become a buyer of this company, and now I can't. That's just the damn cherry! So don't tell me about meetings!"

Anger receding only slightly, Sesshoumaru had to find the amusement in the situation. "Bad day Miss Kagome?"

Shock settling in, her anger was pushed aside, humor meeting her eyes as well. "Same could be for you Sesshoumaru-sama. You know, calling someone a wench on a subway isn't pleasant."

"Neither is calling someone a jerk." Sesshoumaru countered, his rage slightly depleting.

"Touché."


End file.
